


A Lord Without Land

by Elveatas (Ricecake)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Fluff, Magic Revealed, Multi, OT3, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricecake/pseuds/Elveatas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, Merlin would reflect that it was probably Gwen’s presence that saved his life. Or —because there was some part of him that wanted to believe Arthur could never kill him— saved him from eternal banishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lord Without Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleete/gifts).



> Dear fleete, I really hope you enjoy this. Thank you for the opportunity to write some OT3
> 
> And another million thanks goes out to my wonderful beta [hart_d](http://hart-d.livejournal.com/)

Later, Merlin would reflect that it was probably Gwen’s presence that saved his life. Or—because there was some part of him that wanted to believe Arthur could never kill him—saved him from eternal banishment.

For when the sorceress fell, Merlin’s eyes still glowing an all too tell-tale golden in the twilight, Arthur grabbed his sword and went straight for Merlin, who was too shocked by the unintentional reveal of his magic to produce a shield to defend himself and too afraid to think of any words that would placate the anger in Arthur’s dark eyes. When he did find the words, his throat had gone as dry as a desert, and he barely managed a croaked “Arthur,” before said prince was upon him. Before Arthur could do anything drastic, however, the sweet, wonderful, and extremely lovable Gwen stepped between Merlin and Arthur’s sword, her arms spread out in a shield far more effective than one Merlin could ever hope to conjure with magic.

Arthur’s hand tightened around the hilt. “Move,” he commanded, his low voice vibrating with barely contained fury, his body tense with the same.

“No,” Gwen said, calm even face to face with Arthur’s wrath. Merlin couldn’t see her eyes, but from her firm voice he guessed they were hard with determination. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

Arthur’s sword stayed pointed at Gwen, too close to her throat to be comfortable. “He’s a sorcerer! A traitor!”

Gwen didn’t waver. “He saved our lives.” She gestured towards the dead sorceress a few feet away from them, lying where Merlin’s fire bolt had felled her. “We would be dead if not for him. You saw it yourself, didn’t you? He protected us.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a traitor, Guinevere! He’s practising magic in the heart of Camelot, knowing the law demands his execution!”

“At least let him explain himself. I cannot believe Merlin is evil,” she pleaded, though her voice was still as hard as steel. “And neither can you, Arthur. Why else would he save us? Why would he expose himself to save us against someone who should be his ally? Why would he kill her if he was in cahoots with her?”

Arthur opened his mouth to answer. Closed it again. He looked at Merlin who was still hiding behind Gwen, a safe distance from the sharp edge of Arthur’s sword. Arthur took a deep breath, then bit out, “Fine.” With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the still-burning campfire they had been sitting around before the ambush. He sauntered over, plopping down in front of it, and he levelled an expectant look at Merlin. “Then let the sorcerer explain himself.”

Merlin barely registered Gwen grabbing hold of his hand before he felt himself being pulled towards the fire. With a gentle push to his shoulders, his leaden knees buckled under him, and Gwen shoved him down to sit opposite Arthur. He didn’t quite know if it was reassuring or not that Gwen felt the need to put a burning fire between them, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“It’s okay, Merlin,” she said with a soft, reassuring smile when she’d sat down beside him and taken his hands between her own. “You can tell us everything.”

And so Merlin did. He started with the fact that he was born with magic, could levitate objects before he could even speak. They raised their eyebrows, but neither of them interjected. When he told them of how he’d met the dragon underneath the castle, he didn’t look at Arthur, couldn’t bear the look of disgust and hatred that was sure to be painted across the prince’s features. He heard the shifting of weight, though, and felt his own body tense with a new rush of adrenaline, ready to flee if need be. But an attack never came, and Merlin continued.

From there on, everything seemed to blur in a stream of words and the painful memories that followed them. Gwen didn’t move from her place beside him, hands clasping Merlin’s, squeezing gently when his words halted.

When Merlin got to the point where he saved Tom, she smiled softly. “I suspected then,” she said, unshed tears in her eyes. “But I didn’t believe it.” She raised their clasped hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Arthur watched him the entire time, face hard and eyes set with ice-cold steel. A few times, he opened his mouth to say something, but with a sharp look from Gwen closed it again, his jaw clenching and unclenching with the unspoken words instead. Sometimes his eyes narrowed in scrutiny, sometimes they widened in disbelief, but mostly they were intent, searching for the answer to whether Merlin should be allowed to live or not.

Not all parts of Merlin’s tale where easy to tell, especially not when he came to Morgause. Briefly, he contemplated lying again, but he’d known from when he first opened his mouth that there could be no more lies. Arthur clenched his fists when Merlin admitted the untruth. His shoulders, which had been tense before, tightened even more, but he didn’t say anything. Not even when Merlin came to his poisoning of Morgana and the release of Kilgharrah and the legacy Balinor had passed down to him.

After Merlin had finished, Arthur remained silent at first, contemplating, and weighing Merlin’s deeds against his father’s law and his own hatred of sorcerers. At least that was what Merlin supposed he was doing. It was impossible to know what was going on inside the prince’s head. Gwen was still clutching Merlin’s hand, but her eyes, that had cried earlier, were now set on Arthur. Merlin knew she’d already forgiven him, forgave him before he’d opened his mouth, even if he was the cause of Morgana’s disappearance. She was magnificent like that.

“It seems to me,” Arthur said when an indeterminable amount of time had passed, voice kept carefully even and without a trace of any feeling that must have been coursing through him, “that the Great Dragon has been manipulating you since the beginning.” He paused, lifted his eyes to meet Merlin’s gaze with a significant look, blue eyes boring into blue. “He bought your trust with invaluable advice. Made sure you could come to him when you needed it. But in the end, he used you. Exploited your kindness and your naivety.”

He took a long, deep breath that in retrospect might have been him steeling himself, for what came next shocked both Merlin and Gwen. “But even he was nothing but a prisoner of my father. The last of his kind who’d been imprisoned by a king weighed down by his own guilt and the unforgivable deed that caused it. Which leaves me with the question, Merlin, why did you lie about Morgause? Why did you, who have suffered persecution under my father’s laws, save his life when you knew that his death would mean your own freedom?”

“I couldn’t let you kill your father,” Merlin said, almost breathless, baffled by the turn in the conversation. “You would hate yourself for it.”

“It wasn’t your decision to make!” Arthur sneered. “He lied, Merlin! He’s killed your people for more than twenty years because of his own guilt and he lied—still lies—to us all about why!”

“I know, Arthur, I know!” Merlin said helplessly. “But you weren’t thinking clearly. Think of what would have happened to Camelot if the prince killed the king. I couldn’t let you do it.”

“You should have!”

“Merlin’s right,” Gwen agreed, ever the voice of reason. “The kingdom would have been torn apart.”

“His actions are still unforgivable. Do you expect me to….to just sit back and watch as he kills more people, whether they be sorcerers, or merely happen to have them as customers, like your father?”

“Yes, I know why my father died,” Gwen said. “But I will not have you kill your own. You will be a better king than him, I know you will. _We_ know you will. But don’t commit the same crimes as your father. Merlin was right when he decided not to let Morgana kill him. Revenge only brings pain and makes us just as bad as him.”

Arthur looked away, jaw clenching. He didn’t continue and Merlin knew they’d won that argument.

Still, there was at least one matter that was undecided. “So what happens now?” Merlin asked. “I mean, with me?”

A heavy sigh left Arthur’s lungs. “I suppose you can come back with us. An idiot like you is likely to get lost in these woods by himself.”

Merlin couldn’t help the grin that took over his face. Neither, it seemed, could Gwen. Arthur crossed his arms like a petulant child and refused to look either of them in the eyes. But his shoulders were lax again and his face not as hard as before, even if there was no smile.

Later, when it was time to sleep, Gwen laid out her bedroll beside Merlin’s, a significant eyebrow raised to quell his immediate protest as she settled down beside him.

“For warmth,” she said, tugging herself into Merlin’s chest under the covers. “And comfort,” she continued in a lower voice. Wriggling up to face Merlin, she leaned over to whisper into his ear. “And Arthur won’t try anything if I’m here.”

A smile tugged at Merlin’s lips, soft, fond. “Thank you,” he said. “I think I might owe you my life.”

Gwen huffed and Merlin felt gentle fingers on his cheek chasing patterns over his skin before cupping his jaw. “I’m only repaying what you have already done for us,” she said and brought his lips to hers.

The kiss was a little too tender to be completely chaste, a little too heartfelt and too earnest for Merlin to disregard it as a mere kiss shared between friends. It was nice, though, as long as it lasted. When Gwen drew back, smiling, tugging herself back into his chest, Merlin couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Arthur who was propped up against a tree beside the fire, the flames illuminating his sombre face. His eyes were locked on Merlin, intent, but their actual expression was inscrutable in the dim light. There was no trace of anger, though, and that was good enough for Merlin, who decided that he wasn’t going to die that night. With a content sigh, he placed an arm over Gwen, tugging her closer, and closed his eyes to sleep.

It came faster than expected.

 

\------------------

 

Things changed after that night, but aside from how their banter didn’t come as natural as before, it wasn’t obvious at first. Arthur was still a prince, Merlin was still his manservant, and they both still lived in a kingdom that executed sorcerers on a regular basis, which naturally limited the spectrum of change considerably. However, for better or for worse, things did change.

The first anomaly was that Arthur didn’t make Merlin muck out the stables anymore, and walking his dogs were out of the question, too. In fact, the majority of the menial tasks Arthur had often enjoyed piling on Merlin’s already weighed-down shoulders were now assigned to someone else. Never once did he send Merlin to the stocks either, even for things that previously would have warranted such a punishment. Merlin didn’t complain, although he did wonder what had brought about the changes. He supposed it was because Arthur didn’t completely trust Merlin after the revelation, but he still made Merlin fix his dinner and help him with his armour before and after battle. Picking out his clothes and dressing him were also still a part of his duties, but when Arthur wanted to take a bath, he ordered other servants to heat the water and fill the tub, even if Merlin was still the one attending him.

Meanwhile, where his relationship with Arthur seemed to have grown weird, like they were walking on eggshells around each other all the time, his relationship with Gwen thrived. After Morgana’s departure, she’d been assigned different tasks around the castle, but was primarily helping the seamstress. With his shoulders free of the majority of his previous duties, Merlin often found himself in the delightful company of Gwen, who spent most of her time sewing or mending clothes while Merlin was studying or polishing Arthur’s armour.

“Shouldn’t you be happy that you don’t have to work so hard anymore?” Gwen asked one day, when Merlin was complaining about Arthur’s changed behaviour while they were sitting in Gwen cottage. “I mean, not that you don’t work hard now, but—well, you don’t look so exhausted anymore.”

“I am happy that I don’t need to sneak sleep here and there, I am,” Merlin said with feeling. “But Arthur is just… different. Of course, after everything I can’t expect him to just fully embrace magical me, and things could definitely be worse, and I’m grateful that my head is still attached to my neck, but I thought—well, I had hoped Arthur would accept me, you know? I can’t fault him for not trusting me, when I’ve lied, but sometimes I worry that he hates me.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about Arthur hating you,” Gwen said, reaching out an arm to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “Why else would he commission a tunic for you?”

Merlin blinked, uncomprehending. “What?”

Gwen nodded down at the black tunic she was currently stitching together. “This one’s for you. From Arthur.”

And really, Merlin should have suspected it when Gwen had taken his measurements a few days earlier, but he’d assumed it was for someone of his height and width and with a little more money, given the fine material of the clothes.

“Why would he give me a tunic?” Merlin asked, blinking owlishly.

“He didn’t say specifically, but if I have to guess, I’d say he’s trying to thank you. But you know how terrible with words he is, so perhaps the tunic?”

Merlin snorted. Well, if Arthur wanted to give him a tunic because he was too proud to actually say the word ‘thanks’ who was he to complain?

 

\------------------

 

“I don’t need you to keep giving me clothes,” was the first thing Merlin said when he entered Arthur’s chambers a few weeks later.

Arthur snorted from where he was sitting by the desk, papers spread out in front of him in a mess Merlin would have to clean up later. “Of course you do. You were practically wearing rags. And your lousy excuse for a jacket cannot possibly keep you warm during winter. I am surprised you have managed this far.”

“I am grateful for the first tunic,” Merlin said, not deterred by Arthur’s obvious goading. “And I can also be persuaded to acknowledge that I needed some warmer clothes for winter, but don’t you think this is a bit much?” He held up the newest jacket in his hands, poking the expensive fabric in case Arthur had forgotten what he’d commissioned.

Arthur looked at Merlin’s finger, then raised an eyebrow at Merlin’s face. “It’s a jacket, Merlin, not a dress.” His lips stretched into a smirk. “Although I can arrange for something like that, should you desire it. I’m sure our Guinevere wouldn’t bat an eyelash.”

“No!” Merlin interjected with his free hand cutting through the air before Arthur could continue. “No dresses. No tunics, no cloaks, no breeches, no boots. In fact, no more gifts!”

“Why?” Arthur frowned as if he really couldn’t comprehend what Merlin was trying to say, and Merlin supposed it was because a rich, entitled prat like Arthur had no idea that fine clothes really didn’t mean that much to someone like him.

“I am a servant, Arthur,” Merlin reminded him, exasperated. “You should not be giving me clothes. At least not such expensive ones.”

“I give Guinevere clothes too.”

“That’s different; you are going to marry her one day, aren’t you? Well, that is if you’re not such an idiot. However, if you manage to get your head out of your arse, she’ll be queen. And I’ll just be your servant, as always.”

“No,” Arthur said, definite, pushing back the chair with a loud screech as the legs caught on the floor.

“No?” Merlin asked, baffled.

Arthur stood up, eyebrows drawn together in an unhappy frown. “No, you are not just a servant. You’re a warlock, Merlin, a dragonlord.” He sauntered around the table, one hand resting on the surface while he gestured to the papers with the other. “I’ve been doing some research. Did you know that before my father’s purge of magic, your family had your own lands? Riches, wealth, a place at court? Influence? And my father took all of that from you.” He started towards Merlin with an aggression in his steps Merlin knew wasn’t actually directed at him. “He persecuted you and robbed your parents of a life together. Made you a mere servant after you saved my life. And you’re just fine with it?”

“Well,” Merlin said, “I can’t say I liked being your manservant at first….”

“But you were never meant to be a servant, Merlin.” Arthur’s expression softened into something that could almost be called fond. “You are a lord, and when I’m king I shall see to it that you get your land and your status back.”

“You don’t need to, Sire,” Merlin said quietly. “I don’t need a title or recognition or….or fancy clothes. I just want my friends to be safe. And to—well, to not be executed. Or banished.” He tried to go for a reassuring smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

Arthur huffed out an incredulous laugh. His steps no longer held the aggravation from before, but he was still coming closer. “See, this is so typical you, you self-sacrificing idiot. Were you ever going to tell me? Share your burden?”

Merlin averted his eyes at Arthur’s searching gaze. “I couldn’t risk it. And even if there was a chance you believed I wasn’t evil, I would not have put you in the position of lying to your father. I still don’t want to.”

“You are completely incapable of taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I would hardly call myself defenceless,” Merlin protested, turning back to level Arthur with a look, but he stopped short when he realized how close Arthur had come. They were almost toe-to-toe, which in itself wasn’t unusual, but this time there was something different about it. An intimacy brought on by Merlin’s true colours and Arthur’s knowledge of them, his acceptance of them.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Not like that, idiot. You take everything upon your own shoulders. Never ask for help or recognition. Not even a pay raise.” A hand clamped down on Merlin’s shoulder, firm, but with a different gentleness compared to all the other times Arthur had done the exact same thing. “I had to watch you freeze your arse off all winter last year.” His thumb gently traced Merlin’s collarbone through the thin layer of his tunic, which had been one of Arthur’s presents.

Merlin swallowed, sparing an idle thought to how dry his throat had become and why. “Yeah, well, that isn’t going to happen again now you’ve given me clothes.”

Arthur smiled, soft and warm, and moved the hand on Merlin’s shoulder up to cup the back of his neck. “See, you need Guinevere and I to take care of you,” he said, right before pulling Merlin in to meet his lips in a kiss.

Merlin froze for half a second before he could gather the presence of mind to close his eyes like Arthur had done and return the kiss. He felt Arthur’s smile against his lips along with a sense of giddiness rolling in his stomach that only intensified when Arthur pried his mouth open with his tongue. Absentmindedly, Merlin let go of his new jacket, fisting his hands in Arthur’s tunic to draw him closer and into a deeper kiss. Arthur hummed in the back of his throat, and the hand at Merlin’s nape went up to bury itself in black hair, while his other hand curled around Merlin’s waist.

When Merlin drew back for breath, he had to place his hands firmly on Arthur’s chest to stop the prince from chasing after another kiss. “What about Gwen?” he asked, panting slightly, eyes wide and earnest.

“Again you care more about other people’s happiness.” Arthur let a thumb glide over Merlin’s cheekbone, his fingertips caressing his jaw. “But don’t worry, she knows about my affections. And surely, you must have guessed she fancies you too. She’s said she’ll be happy to join us in bed, but that she’d rather be without a child born out of wedlock, so it won’t be before the wedding night.”

Merlin snorted, unable to help the grin that broke out on his face from the sudden, new loop his stomach took. “You really don’t know anything about women’s anatomy, do you? There are plenty of ways to pleasure a woman without getting her pregnant.”

Arthur arched a half-amused, half-bemused eyebrow. “And I suppose you know?”

“I’m the physician’s apprentice,” Merlin stated with a pointed look. “I know these sort of things. I can teach you if you like. There’s no reason for her not to join us now. I don’t think I’d be able to wait till you’re king, and it would be mean of us to fuck around while she’s left to chastely watch. Your father could live for years.”

“….You have a point,” Arthur conceded with a thoughtful look before his lips stretched into a smug grin. “Then make sure she finds her way to my chambers tonight. If she’s willing.” He drew Merlin back in. “In the meantime I think we should practise.”

 

\------------------

 

Merlin could easily spot the apprehension in the tense lines of Gwen’s shoulders as he opened the door into Arthur’s chambers for her.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, going for a smile to reassure her.

“I—yeah,” she said, fiddling with her dress. “Not that I don’t like you and Arthur, but—”

He interrupted her with a soft huff, lifting a hand to caress her cheek with his knuckles. “I know what you mean. I was, too, before my first time. But don’t worry; we won’t hurt you, saving that for the wedding night.”

“How comforting,” she said, but leaned into his touch nonetheless and accepted the tender kiss he pressed to her lips in memory of the one they’d shared at the night of his exposure.

“I know what I’m doing,” he said when they broke apart. “And I hope you don’t mind that I’m showing Arthur, too.”

“We’ve already been over this,” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “And I agreed.” She fisted a hand in his tunic. “I trust you, Merlin, and I trust Arthur too.”

He grinned as she drew him back down for another kiss that didn’t stay chaste for long. Merlin opened his mouth at Gwen’s prodding, allowing her to take charge, to let her feel in control. He lifted a hand to her face and held it hesitantly just above her cheek for a few seconds, before placing it at the side of her neck, thumb caressing her jawbone as the kiss deepened with urgency.

From somewhere behind them, Arthur cleared his throat rather pointedly. They drew apart, Merlin with a cheeky grin and Gwen with a sheepish look, turning to look at the prince, who was sitting by his desk, arms and legs crossed and an eyebrow raised.

“My apologies, Sire,” Merlin said, clearly not sorry at all. “I was merely warming her up.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Of course you were.”

Gwen laughed, but Merlin could still detect a hint of nervousness in it. It was better than before she entered the room, though, so he considered his mission to be partly successful.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Arthur asked with a put-upon frown that held no ill intention.

“Come on,” Merlin said, finding Gwen’s hand, tugging on it to lead her over in the direction of Arthur. “His highness is waiting. Impatiently, the prat.”

Arthur got out of his chair in time to meet them by the foot of the bed, drawing Gwen into his arms and a heated, familiar kiss. Merlin left them alone, for a short while, to further ease Gwen’s nerves. Both Arthur and Merlin had had their first times a long time ago, but for Gwen, this was all new. And then with two people at the same time. Apprehension was to be expected.

Standing behind her, Merlin gently laid one hand on her shoulder while the other brushed away her braid so that he could press a kiss to her neck. He felt how her shoulders tensed again under his lips, but it wasn’t long before they relaxed as he continued laying small kisses on her neck, then moved to her shoulder where he licked a long stripe up to her ear. Arthur’s hand briefly ghosted over Merlin’s before he drew back to first look at Gwen, then at Merlin with hooded eyes. Meeting Arthur’s look with a sly one of his own, Merlin lightly bit into Gwen’s ear, licking the outer shell, before Arthur groaned, grabbed hold of the back of Merlin’s head, and pulled him over Gwen’s shoulder for a kiss that was as hungry and familiar as the ones he’d just been bestowing on Gwen.

Gwen shifted under them, turning her head to look at them with a small “Oh,” escaping her lips. There was wonder in it, and a trace of desire Merlin recognized well.

He drew back from Arthur to place a sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth, but she turned around to catch his lips fully instead. His fingers started on the laces on her bodice while Arthur placed affection upon her neck as Merlin had done before. Slowly, when he’d unlaced it, he pulled the bodice off her, Arthur helping it down her arms. Next were the ties on the back of her dress, which Arthur undid with surprisingly deft fingers for someone who rarely bothered undressing himself. Feeling fingers on the front of his tunic, Merlin drew back to look down at Gwen, bemused. She gave him a shy smile in return, but did not waver and continued undoing the strings of his tunic, loosening the neck of the fine material to bare his pale neck.

“You haven’t been wearing your kerchiefs lately,” she said, hands roaming down over his chest, down to the bottom of his tunic where they wandered underneath to feel warm skin.

“Arthur has confiscated them,” he said sourly, earning an amused snort from said prince, while Gwen’s hands gathered the fine fabric in her hands, pulling upwards.

“Believe me,” Arthur said. “No one’s missing them.”

“I am,” Merlin said, affronted. “I happen to quite like them.” He lifted his arms to allow Gwen to pull the tunic off him with the assistance of Arthur, who dropped it on the floor afterwards.

“You must be the only one, then.” Arthur eased Gwen out of the sleeves of her dress and Merlin helped pull the fabric down her body, where it pooled around her feet, leaving her in only her petticoat.

Her nipples perked through the thin fabric, a faint blush adorning her cheeks as she averted her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Merlin said. “Mine do the same.” He nodded downwards, grabbing Gwen’s hands and lifting them up to gently touch her fingers to his nipples. “We’re not that different,” he continued. “Yours only have a little more fat around them.”

“Everyone has more fat than you,” Gwen chuckled. She turned her head slightly to give Arthur a displeased eyebrow. “I thought you said you’d been feeding him. He’s still as scrawny as before.”

“I have,” Arthur said. “And he eats like a horse. It’s not my fault he can’t put on weight to save his life.”

Merlin lifted his eyes to glare at Arthur. “I knew you’d been ordering more food than usual. The excuse that the cooks kept getting the order wrong was just awful. And may I remind you that it’s not your job to feed me?”

“Oh, but it is. Didn’t we establish earlier that you are quite unable to take care of yourself?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!”

“You really aren’t,” Gwen said and took advantage of Merlin’s mouth, open to protest, and drew him down into another kiss that was nice enough for Merlin to be magnanimous and ignore Arthur’s snicker. At least Gwen’s nerves seemed to have subsided.

With a gentle tug on her wrist, he stepped backwards and prompted her to step out of the pool of clothes that had gathered at her feet. He led her over to the bed, where she sat down and allowed Arthur, who’d followed them, to kneel down and remove her shoes. On his way up, he grabbed the bottom of her dress and slowly dragged it upwards, revealing her bare body inch by inch. She lifted her arms when his hands got to her armpits so he could pull it off her completely, blue eyes intent on brown.

Her cheeks had tinted a different shade of red, but her eyes stayed on Arthur’s, unashamed if a bit nervous in her nudity. Reaching forward, she undid the laces of his tunic, breath hitching in her throat when Arthur in turn cupped a naked breast, thumb caressing a sensitive nipple. He let go briefly when she pulled the tunic off him, but was back with both hands once she dropped it. Unsteady hands roamed his broad chest, fingers twisting in the light hair. Arthur bowed forward to capture Gwen in another kiss.

“I see you’ve got this part figured out,” Merlin teased from behind Gwen where he’d crawled onto the bed after having taken off his boots. Reaching around her, his hands joined Arthur’s in their quest, fingers interlacing.

“So far it’s not different,” Arthur answered, dipping his head down to suck in a nipple.

Gwen shuddered, her mouth open to drag in a deep breath. No sounds came out. Arthur smirked around her nipple, meeting Merlin’s amused eyes over her shoulder.

“That’s because there’s not much danger of pregnancy, yet,” Merlin said, shifting so his legs splayed out on either side of Gwen, his bare toes sliding up a dark calf. He kissed her neck again, biting softly into the delicate skin, but still held eye contact with Arthur.

“How nice of you to talk of me that way,” Gwen remarked on an exhale that turned into a moan when Arthur blew on damp nipple before sucking it back in. “I almost feel like a science experiment.”

“Sorry, Gwen,” Merlin said, turning her head around with a hand on her cheek to kiss her deeply. “I promise we’ll be good.”

“Just be grateful you’re cute.”

“And that I know what I’m doing,” he added, letting a hand glide over her bare shoulders, tracing skin down her chest and stomach. “Now, Arthur,” he said. “This is where you pay attention.” His free hand nudged Arthur back with a firm grip on his jaw. “Watch and learn.”

“Pushy,” Arthur said, but sat back on his haunches nonetheless, his arms holding on to Gwen’s knees to keep his balance.

“Okay, Gwen?” Merlin breathed as his hand drifted further downwards, through dark curls, to caress gently where he knew she’d feel the most.

Her whole body tensed, stiffened when his thumb rubbed over her clit. “Yeah,” she said on an exhale that was too close to a moan to be anything else. “Yeah, I’m okay. It feels.…”

“Good?” Merlin prompted, mouthing at her neck again.

“You could say that.”

He laughed softly into her ear. “Yeah, it’s supposed to. It’s the most sensitive area on the female body,” he said to Arthur who was watching intently as Merlin’s fingers worked. “Most men think it’s all about penetration and thrusts, but it’s not only that. This is the spot to touch if you want to pleasure a woman. Something many men often forget, or are completely unaware of.” His other hand slid over Gwen’s hip, down over her thigh before drifting up again on the inside. “It doesn’t mean they can’t take pleasure from being entered, though,” he added and slid a finger inside her. “Just so we’re clear about that.”

Gwen gasped as if confirming his statement, back arching against his torso where she was sure to feel his own response to the situation. She didn’t comment on it, couldn’t perhaps, especially when he slid another finger in, careful not to overstretch the hymen that was still intact and would remain so for an unforeseeable amount of time. A quick look at Arthur told Merlin he was equally affected by the situation, and had she not been busy writhing in pleasure, Gwen would probably have demanded he remove his hands from where they were clutching onto her knees like a lifeline, knuckles white and tense. Gwen’s own hands were wrapped around Merlin’s wrists, fingers digging into his skin, but she did not pull him away.

He continued his ministrations in silence, his fingers going in and out, caressing, massaging, while the fingers on his other hand rubbed and teased at Gwen’s nub until she stilled and then shook with pleasure, her toes stretching out along with her body, her breath laboured.

“See?” Merlin said, withdrawing his hands, wet with moisture, when Gwen was catching her breath. “Plenty of ways to pleasure a woman. And there’s more.”

He moved back from her, drawing her up on the bed where he gestured for her to lay down. She lay with her head on the pillows, eyes following him as he laid down in the cradle her legs provided, his strong arms holding him up to not crush her when he moved down to kiss her again, passionate and hungry, allowing her to recover from the aftershocks of orgasm.

He drew away when breath became an emergency, mouthing and nibbling on her collarbones, kissing and biting as her legs tightened around his hips, catching on the rough fabric of his breeches. Moving down to her chest, he kissed between her breasts before sucking gently on one nipple, then the other, and moved further down, placing kisses along her sternum. When he got to the flat planes of her stomach, it seemed she realized his intended destination.

“Merlin,” she said on a breath, her fingers burying themselves in his hair.

“Trust me,” he whispered against her navel, tongue dipping out to lick into it briefly before pressing a kiss to the side of it, then he moved further down.

“I do,” she said when he was just above the spot he’d caressed earlier. “I do. It’s just—”

“I know,” he said and kissed her there. “Try to relax.” She bucked when his tongue poked out to lick, hands pulling on his hair. He grinned against her and shifted so he could hold onto her hips to hold them down. “Relax, I said.”

“Easier said than done,” she gasped but removed her fingers from his hair, opting instead to pull at the sheets, while visibly forcing herself to lay as still as possible.

“That’s better.” He spread her legs further, looking up to see her reactions, as he continued what he’d set out to do.

Her chest was rising up and down, heaving for breath while her teeth bit into a lip. Her eyes were hooded; sometimes they closed at a particularly clever lick while other times they opened wide on a gasp and a shudder that went through her entire body.

The hands on Merlin’s hips came sudden and unexpected, and he nearly stiffened in shock, but managed to gather the presence of mind to continue. They moved to the front of his breeches, deft fingers swiftly undoing the ties before pulling the fabric down, freeing his erection that had mostly been forgotten. Lifting first one knee, then the other, he let the hands pull them off completely, leaving him as naked as Gwen. The bed dipped before he felt the same hands at his hips again, ghosting over skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Calloused fingers traced bones and muscle and old scars. Next he felt a warm, naked body over his back and lips pressing kisses from his nape and down to his arse, the same hands from before coming back to replace the mouth right before it reached the cleft.

Hard as it became, taking care of Gwen, Merlin did his best to continue unaffected. Her eyes had shifted to Arthur behind Merlin, who must have taken the opportunity to shed his clothes while the other two had been busy, judging by the naked state of his thighs brushing against Merlin’s legs. One of his hands had been slicked with some kind of oil, probably the one Merlin usually used to rub Arthur down after a swordfight, and now, a finger was travelling down between Merlin’s buttocks, pausing right above his hole. Merlin tensed, drew back and turned his head to look up at the prince behind him. Arthur was gazing down at Merlin, waiting, and when Merlin nodded his consent, he let his lips stretch into something between a smirk and a genuine smile.

Merlin relaxed as much as he could when the first finger breached him, distracting himself by going back to take care of Gwen’s pleasure even if that task proved to be short-lived. She shuddered to a close as the second finger entered him, working him open together with the other one.

He lifted his head up as Gwen moved back to watch with a certain interest in Merlin’s expression when Arthur added a third finger.

“Ready?” Arthur asked after what seemed an eternity.

“Yeah,” Merlin said and braced himself as Arthur withdrew his fingers and positioned himself.

He went in slowly, giving Merlin time to adjust to the stretch and the feeling of being breached by something so large. When he was fully inside, he moved back as slowly as he’d entered. Then in again, a bit faster, and out in the same pace. Merlin felt kisses on his back again as Arthur increased the pace, bit by bit, until he was thrusting into Merlin, continuously hitting the spot that made all the preparation and the uncomfortableness worth it.

Merlin’s fingers dug into the rumpled sheets, his mouth hanging open on half-swallowed gasps that seemed to intrigue Gwen whose hand travelled south without her seeming to realize what she was doing.

“So that’s how men do it?” she asked, wonder in her voice.

“Yeah,” Merlin said on a groan, trying to stay as coherent as possible. “Women can do it, too. But…there is a spot…inside…that you lack.”

“Which you have?”

“Yes,” he hissed and arched his back just as Arthur hit it again. “Yeah.”

“But it won’t be enough to bring him off,” Arthur supplied, reaching around Merlin to grab his length. “This will help.”

Gwen crawled down the bed, looked at Merlin, then at Arthur who must have given her some kind of assent before she reached out a hand to intertwine with Arthur’s. They worked him together, Arthur guiding Gwen’s hand up and down, while Merlin did his best not to come too early, which was easier said than done when Arthur brushed the head, fingers digging into the slit, before going back down to the root.

After a while, Arthur let go, leaving Gwen to continue, and dug his hands into Merlin’s hips, increasing the pace almost desperately. Gwen’s grip was not as sure as Arthur’s, but what she lacked in experience, she made up for in pace and experimentation.

It was only a matter of time before Merlin came, and when he did, Arthur made a few more thrusts before he collapsed on top of Merlin, barely catching himself on the bed before he crushed him completely. He breathed into Merlin’s neck, mouthing along his nape while they both recovered. Faintly, Merlin was aware of Gwen watching them, and heard her shift against the sheets, but could not bring himself to lift his head until Arthur straightened up and pulled out.  
Gwen was lying beside them, one of her hands sticky with Merlin’s come, and although she didn’t seem bothered by it, mostly curious actually, Merlin flashed his eyes and let his magic clean them all up.

“Neat,” Arthur said, stretching out on the bed on Merlin’s other side. “I knew my father was lying when he said magic was all evil.”

Deciding that that statement did not deserve an answer, Merlin lay down in the middle, looking up towards the ceiling and found a ridiculous smile breaking out over his face.

Gwen rolled over to tangle her legs with his, resting her arm on his shoulder as she looked up at him. “I’m glad we didn’t wait till the wedding.”

“Me too,” Arthur agreed, turning to look at her over Merlin’s chest. “Who knew the idiot actually knew something useful,” he said conspiratorially.

“Hey,” Merlin objected half-heartedly, too relaxed in post-coital bliss to put up much of a fuss.

Gwen giggled, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry. Arthur’s just being Arthur.”

“He’s being a prat, is what he is.”

“Oi.” This time it was Arthur’s turn to object, but instead of retaliating, he shifted to tangle his legs with Merlin’s and Gwen’s, pressing himself closer to Merlin and reaching out a hand to intertwine his fingers with Gwen’s over Merlin’s chest. Over his heart.

“When Morgana comes back,” Arthur said, his seriousness a sudden contrast to the previously light mood, “I think you should tell her about your magic.”

“Yeah? You know that both Gaius and Kilgharrah have advised me against it.”

“And how well did trusting that dragon go, Merlin?”

“Point taken.”

“So you’ll tell her?” Gwen asked.

“Yeah,” Merlin said, wrapping an arm around her to tug her closer. “I’ll tell her.”

Arthur rested his head at the place where Merlin’s shoulder met his neck, warm breath ghosting across his cheek. “Good.”

 

\---------------

 

Naturally, Arthur didn’t stop giving Merlin clothes, because he was a prat, and it annoyed Merlin who continued to complain and rage about the unneeded gifts but wore them anyway. Gwen laughed at them both until she doubled over in hysterics. Then she said something about silly boys and their inabilities to properly talk about feelings.

Eventually, Morgana found her way back to Camelot, and then there was the whole business about Merlin confessing his magic and why he poisoned her.

“I will not forgive you just yet,” she said, eyes boring into Merlin’s, and she ignored Arthur shifting his weight from one leg to another and Gwen’s worried gaze from beside her. “In time, maybe, because I understand your fear, but I cannot just….forget what has happened.”

“I understand,” Merlin said, nodding solemnly. “I wouldn’t forgive myself either.”

In addition to Merlin’s secret, Morgana revealed what Uther had told her about her true parentage. To say Arthur was shocked would be a serious understatement, but he embraced her like the sister she’d always been and promised to protect her with his life, should Uther discover her abilities.

“I will not kill my father,” Arthur declared later. “And neither do I want to watch you commit patricide, but if someone else were to make an attempt at his life, I would not….interfere,” he added pointedly. “However, neither would I want to have to launch an investigation and put innocent people to death. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Morgana nodded. “I shall tell Morgause.”

A few months later, Uther died of an unknown illness and Arthur was crowned king of Camelot. He mourned over his father, but he kept his promises. All of them. And it was a beautiful day in Camelot when he married Gwen and crowned her queen, and an even more beautiful day when magic was allowed back into the land.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://elveatas.tumblr.com/)  
> And on Livejournal [here](http://elveatas.livejournal.com/)


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